


Trouble in Paradise

by sunkelles



Series: Femslash February 2017 [6]
Category: Black Mirror
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Own Lesbian Character, San Junipero, Sexy Times, Slight possessive behavior, True Lirst, True Love and True Thirst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 00:45:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9574403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunkelles/pseuds/sunkelles
Summary: Yorkie and Kelly have a little argument. Nothing that they can’t solve, though.





	

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. inspired heavily by my san junipero anons on tumblr  
> 2\. i normally don't change povs mid-fic but the pov just modulated of its own accord and i just kind of went with it. hope that doesn't bug anyone.   
> 3\. it's not SUPER explicit (sorry friends) but sex does happen.

Madonna's Holiday blares over the club's speakers. It's a Saturday night, and Tucker's is filled to the brim with people. The full timers all want to be out tonight, and the part timers are enjoying their five hours a week.

 

Yorkie and Kelly are dancing gracelessly on the floor, moving along to the beat. Yorkie doesn't care that she's not a good dancer anymore. All that matters is just having fun with Kelly. She dances like nobody is watching, and doesn’t care that they are. Then Kelly lets go of Yorkie's hand.

"I gotta go to the bathroom," Kelly says.

"I'll go with you." Kelly rolls her eyes.

"I can pee without you, York," Kelly tells her. Yorkie frowns her sad puppy dog frown.

"Babe, just keep dancing. Enjoy yourself. I'll be back in a minute." Yorkie likes dancing, but she doesn't care to do it alone. She goes to sit down at the bar.

"Just a beer, please," Yorkie tells the bartender. A woman sits down beside her.

"Is it cool if I sit here?" she asks.

"Sure." Yorkie grabs the bottle of beer, and takes a swig.

"So, this is my first time here," the woman says. She has a pink undercut (which doesn't fit with the eighties aesthetic), but she's also wearing a red, fancy jacket like like Kelly's.

"That's big," Yorkie says. She remembers how confused and enraptured she felt her first time. It had been even bigger for her because of how many years she had spent quadriplegic.

"I was wondering if you could show me the ropes?"

"Why are you asking me?" Yorkie asks. She doesn't want to seem rude, but since she passed over, the folks at TCKR have developed actual infrastructure for this sort of thing. Full timers who want to stay active and social become tour guides and mentors to the new part timers. This woman must have been assigned one.

"You seem like a full timer." The phrase almost sounds flirty. Yorkie thinks that she could, possibly, be imagining it.

"I do?"

"Experienced, confident, good looking." Okay, yeah. She's definitely not imaging it.

"I um, I don't know what that has to do with being a full timer." Yeah, this woman's not confused, she just wants to hit on her. The woman shrugs.

"Nothing, really," she says, "that was just me flirting."  Then she winks. She fucking winks! Yorkie knows that Kelly was blatant the first time they met, but this feels over the top, especially since she's married.

 

Kelly chooses exactly _that_ moment to come back from the bathroom.

"Who is this?" Kelly asks. She sounds more curious than anything else. Yorkie doesn't know what to make of that.

"Kelly," Yorkie says, sounding entirely uncomfortable, "this is, uh-"

"Kim," the woman says.

"She's a tourist," Yorkie says.

"Ah, I remember those days. I thought _I_ was just passing through, now look at me, all settled down." She doesn't say anything specific, but Yorkie still feels herself smiling wide. This woman is her wife. She decided to give eternity a shot for _her_. Sometimes, Yorkie forgets how big this really is.

"How do you like the town?" Kelly asks. She doesn't say the cloud, or the virtual reality simulation, or the almost afterlife. Most of the locals, them included, don't really like acknowledging exactly what San Junipero is. At least, they don't like acknowledging it when they don't have to.

"I _love_ this. I get the eighties aesthetic and music without the prejudice," the girl says. Yorkie doesn't doubt she experienced a lot of it, assuming she was alive back then. She's a bit heavier set, her hair's cut short, and she has a low, raspy voice. She's blatantly butch enough that the eighties would have been awful for her, even if she didn't try to come out and wasn't greeted by total disaster, like Yorkie was.

"You didn't grow up in the eighties, did you?" Kelly asks skeptically.

"No, I did. I was open back then too. It's just _so_ much easier here." She sounds offended that Kelly would dare question her lesbian cred.

"Yeah," Yorkie says, laughing awkwardly, "I know the feeling."

"I like you," Kim says, flirty but with a lot of weight, "you wanna dance?" Yorkie looks awkwardly between Kim and Kelly.

"I don't think I should." She looks to Kelly for help. Kelly laughs.

"Come on, York. Go, have fun," Kelly tells her, making a shooing gesture. Yorkie frowns, but she goes off with Kim instead of her wife. Her wife, who doesn't seem disturbed that a woman is blatantly hitting on her. Instead she just seems amused. Yorkie's kind of pissed off about it.

 

Toto's Africa plays, and Kim starts to dance. She's not a _bad_ dancer, but she's not as good as Kelly, or as passionate either. Yorkie tries to dance along. If they're going to do this, they have to do it right at least.

"You're like a breath of fresh air," Kim says.

"I am?"

"Yeah, you are. I've talked to a few full timers, but they've all seemed, well, I dunno how to describe it."

"Dead?"

"Yeah," Kim says, "exactly. I guess it makes sense, considering that they are." Yorkie laughs awkwardly. It feels like that's all she can do at the moment.

"You're still so full of life," Kim says, "how do you do it?"

"I've got something to live for, I guess," Yorkie says. Kim sends her a look, soft and tender, and it somehow makes Yorkie feel less comfortable with the situation.

The song switches to a slow ballad, something by Foreigner (half of their damn songs sound exactly the same), and Kim wraps her arms around Yorkie's waist and tries to pull her in closer to dance. Yorkie squirms as she pulls out of it.

"I'm sorry," Kim says, "was I being too forward? I just- I thought you were into this." Yorkie laughs awkwardly. God, this woman's worse at reading signs than she is.

"I'm sorry I- I have a wife," Yorkie says. Kim's look sours.

"Oh, alright then," Kim says cooly, "I think you'd better go." Yorkie doesn't have to be told twice. She leaves Kim in the middle of the dance floor, and goes off to find her wife.

"What happened?" Kelly asks. Apparently, Yorkie looks as frustrated as she feels.

"I wanna go home, Kelly," Yorkie says.

"Why?" Kelly asks. Yorkie has her arms crossed over her chest, and looks anxious and uncomfortable. She even looks a little angry.

"Babe? What's wrong?"

"Look, I just- I'm not having fun anymore."

"Alright," Kelly says, "we'll go home." They leave the bar, and get into their beautiful, red convertible. Kelly sits down in the driver's seat, and revs the engine.

Then she starts driving, and asks, "Will you talk to me?" Instead, Yorkie watches out the window, and doesn't speak to her the whole drive home.

"I want to go home," Yorkie says.

"Fine," Kelly says, clutching the steering wheel tighter, "no more talking." They get to the house sooner than later. Kelly shoves her key in the lock, and then throws open the door. She walks inside, and Yorkie follows slowly.

"Fine," Kelly says, throwing her stuff onto the couch, "we're home. Let's talk."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Babe, please talk to me," Kelly says, "I'm not a mind reader, Yorkie. I can't fix it if I don't know what's broken." Yorkie bites her lip, and considers staying stubbornly silent. She decides that won't help. She leans back against the counter, and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Why didn't you tell that girl to back off?" Yorkie asks her.

"I don't know what you mean?" Kelly says.

"Why didn't you tell her I was taken?" Yorkie says, and she sounds angry. She sounds angry and Kelly doesn't understand.

"Why'd you send me to dance with a girl who was obviously into me?"

"I want you to feel good," Kelly says. Yorkie is a wonderful, gorgeous woman. She only wants her to hear it from everyone who'll say it.

"You want me to feel good?" Yorkie asks skeptically.

"Yeah," Kelly says, "you never got to hear it from anyone but me, Yorkie. I just want you to know I'm not the only one who thinks that." Yorkie uncrosses her arms, and her looks softens a little.

"Don't you mind?" Yorkie asks.

"Of course," Kelly says, "I'm not a saint. I didn't _want_ that girl to flirt with you."

"Then why didn't you stop her?" Yorkie asks, "why didn't you say something?"

"I can just keep it to myself," Kelly says, grinning, "I know who you're coming home with." Yorkie nods, like that makes sense. Her reaction does make Kelly wonder how she would react if the roles were _reversed_ , though.

"What would you do, if it were me she were flirting with?" Kelly asks. She's curious to see where this might lead. She thinks it might be sexy.

"If it were you," Yorkie says, "well, I wouldn't let _anyone_ hit on you."

"What would you do about it?" Kelly challenges playfully.

"Well," Yorkie says, playfully puffing out her chest, "I'd say." Then she drops her voice.

"This is my wife, and she's _taken_." Kelly grins at her, and watches Yorkie swagger over. Ah yeah, this confidence is sexy. Kelly sits down on the couch, and looks teasingly up at her.

"I am?" Kelly asks, playfully. Yorkie pounces on her, and Kelly lands on her back, bouncing gently on the couch. Kelly laughs in surprise. Yorkie holds Kelly's hands over her head, and kneels over her, face inches from hers. Kelly can't move her arms, and Yorkie looks absolutely _primal_.

"You are," she asserts, "you're _my_ wife, mine."

"Yours?" Kelly's just trying the word out, seeing if she likes it. She does. Hell, she can feel herself getting wet. Yorkie doesn't take her reaction right. She blushes, and lets go of Kelly's hands. She starts to move off of her, but Kelly grabs her and holds her in place.  

"That was- that was too much, wasn't it?" Yorkie says. Kelly laughs.

"No, babe," Kelly says, breathlessly, "that was _perfect_." Yorkie's never been so dominant before, so possessive. Kelly thinks she likes it. At least, in a bedroom context.

"Really?" Yorkie asks.

"I think it's hot, York," she says. Yorkie smiles.

"Well, in that case," she says. She pins Kelly's arms again.  

"Is this alright?" she asks.

"Yeah babe," Kelly says, "it's great." Yorkie beams.

"Mine," Yorkie says, nipping her ear. Kelly pulls at Yorkie's shirt, and works it over her head. They're wearing _far_ too much clothing. She feels Yorkie working on her pants instead, and Kelly giggles. Her wife always starts with the big guns.

Her pants come off, and Yorkie doesn't even bother with the underwear. She hooks her fingers right inside and Kelly feels them move slowly against her. Ah god, she needs this right now. She needs more-

Kelly thrusts up against them, trying to find some relief in the friction. Then Yorkie works her other hand inside, and starts rubbing circles along with it. It's _exactly_ what Kelly needs right now.

"I got you, baby," Yorkie says. Kelly feels herself getting weaker, feels the pleasure building.

“Mine,” Yorkie murmurs in her ear. And that sends her over the edge. She climaxes, and she lies down on the couch. Yorkie snuggles up against her. She sends her a cute, expectant little look.

"Was that good?"

"Oh yeah, babe," Kelly says, "that was like, fan-fucking-tastic." Yorkie smiles smugly. Oh no way is she staying this calm and composed this whole time. If Kelly is going to be a happy, post-orgasmic mess, so is Yorkie. Kelly flips Yorkie over. Yorkie squeals.

"Kelly?"

"I just wanna return the favor, babe," Kelly says. She unzips Yorkie's pants, and holds her hands on her hips a moment before she pulls down both sets of pants.

 

She puts a hand on Yorkie's thigh for a moment, making soft, smooth circles on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. She can smell Yorkie's wet, that tangy smell, and Yorkie whines.

 "Kelly-"

"Just let me take care of you," Kelly whispers, voice husky, slowly working her hands up to Yorkie's hips. She works slow, soft circles into the skin on her innermost thigh.

"Okay," Yorkie says, a little breathless. Then, Kelly opens her up. She's wet and wanting, and Kelly feels no shame when she starts to make, slow, teasing circles on her walls.

"Kelly-"

"I got you," Kelly says softly, and then she takes Yorkie into her mouth. The other girl squirms in pleasure, and holds her hair as Kelly works. She squirms and grips the whole time, and Kelly can tell that she's getting close. Then, she screams as it finally comes. She sighs as she curls up into the couch. 

"You are amazing," Yorkie says.

"No," Kelly says, making a show of licking Yorkie off her fingers, "you are." Yorkie looks at her, hunger and love in her eyes. Yorkie nearly growls as she kisses her again, and the whole cycle starts over.


End file.
